


Ten Cent Lovin'

by michaelandthegodsquad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hunters, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Drunkenness, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelandthegodsquad/pseuds/michaelandthegodsquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"See, guys like that? Dime a dozen. No, what you need," he continues, leaning forward into Castiel's space, "is someone who'll pay attention to you. Someone with a bit more," he pauses, tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip, "experience. An appreciation for the finer things, you might say. Not some frat boy wannabe."</p><p>Dean keeps leaning closer and Castiel knows, deep down, that he should head in the other direction; this guy is just trying to pick him up for a random hookup, Castiel knows that. But he's captivated, can barely even look away from Dean, so he just swallows and keeps listening. </p><p> </p><p>OR: In which Castiel is on a bad date and Dean manages to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Cent Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at least three or four years ago (probably around...season 6 or so?) and never posted it anywhere, probably because it's incredibly cheesy and maybe a bit awkward, but what the hell, I wrote it so I may as well put it out there.
> 
> Based entirely on The Black Crowes song "Hard to Handle."

Castiel was having a miserable evening.

First, his "date" had arrived twenty minutes late to pick him up. Then, as they stood in the elevator going downstairs to the lobby of Castiel's building, the man had stuck his hand into the back pocket of Castiel’s jeans, fingers curling slightly as he tried to get a feel of his ass.

"Do you _mind?"_ Castiel had hissed, swatting the man's hand away.

His date only leered at Castiel, winking as he said, "Nah, I don't mind, Doll."

Castiel could only take a deep breath and try his best to not just walk away from the man immediately. He'd promised Anna he'd give his next date an actual chance, instead of dismissing him within fifteen minutes of meeting as he normally did. This man had already given him more than enough reason to abandon ship, but Castiel made a promise, and besides, he could already hear Anna insisting that “he couldn’t have been _that_ bad, Castiel, you’re exaggerating.”

In the car, his date kept pawing at Castiel's thigh. Castiel sighed, pushing the offending hand away every time it crept towards him. Hoping to distract the man, he tried to have an actual conversation with him.

"What exactly is it that you do, Brady?"

"What? Oh, I'm a researcher at a pharmaceutical company."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. From his behavior, he wouldn't have guessed that Brady was quite so…educated. "Oh? Did you always want to do that?"

Brady scoffed. "Nah, no way. My dad got me the job, he works there too. It's great 'cause I don't really have to do anything. All I do is find like, articles and studies in medical journals and stuff and hand 'em over to the guys who do, y'know. Actual research and testing and stuff."

Castiel's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

"But enough about that, Cassie. I'm sure we got more interesting things to discuss," he'd said sleazily, hand reaching out to rest on Castiel's thigh again.

Castiel had sighed, batting Brady's hand away again as he leaned his head against the window. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Brady took him to a bar in an unfamiliar part of town, and Castiel frowned. He was under the impression they'd be having dinner. He turned to ask Brady about it, but found that the man wasn't even standing next to him anymore, having abandoned him when he saw a rowdy group of men who were apparently his friends. They all yelled obnoxious greetings in his direction as he approached, and immediately challenged him to some sort of drinking contest. Castiel, at this point, couldn't even pretend that this date was actually going anywhere, and wanted to go home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, he was in an unfamiliar part of town and didn't know how to get home from here, thus having no choice but to wait until Brady was done and could drive him home…though from the looks of it, Brady wouldn’t be driving anywhere for a long while. He sighed, making his way over to the bar and sitting in the nearest available stool, settling in to wait.

* * *

It's been half an hour since then, and Castiel is about to ask for a glass of wine to nurse while he waits for Brady. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the man in the stool next to him vacate his seat, only for it to become occupied seconds later. Also out of the corner of his eye, Castiel can see the new man grinning at him, trying to get his attention. When he finally looks over, the man smiles brightly at him.

"Hey," the man greets, reaching out a hand to shake Castiel's. "Dean Winchester," he says, a friendly grin on his face, somehow mischievous and charming all at once.

"Castiel Milton," he replies, taking in the man's features. They're surprisingly delicate, all wide, green eyes and curled lashes and freckled cheeks, contrasting the blatant masculinity of Dean's demeanor, with the ruggedness of his worn leather jacket and the wide spread of his knees.

"Well, Castiel Milton," Dean begins, spinning his stool slightly to face Castiel more fully. "No offense, but you're stickin' out like a sore thumb right now," he says, tipping his chin at Castiel’s button-down Oxford shirt, dark blue tie, and dress slacks. His grin is a bit disarming but Castiel finds himself drawn to it. "So what are you doin' all alone in a place like this, Sweetheart?"

Castiel flushes a bit at the pet name, but doesn't correct Dean. "I'm not alone. I'm here with someone."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Who, that guy?" he asks, tilting his head towards Brady, who's currently downing shot after shot as his friends cheer him on. At Castiel's nod, Dean shoots him a disbelieving look, one that says, 'Really? _That_ guy?"

Dean tuts, shaking his head. "Come on, Sweetheart, I think we both know you can do better than that."

Leaning forward slightly on the bar, Dean calls out to the bartender, "Ellen! Two blowjobs, please!" Castiel frowns at the drink order, but Dean smiles at him again, leaning one elbow on the bar. "See, that guy? The one you're here with? He's an idiot, I can tell you that right now."

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "Oh? You know him well?"

Dean shakes his head, the corners of his lips turned down. "Nope, never seen him before in my life." At Castiel's confused face, Dean clarifies, "But I figure, anyone who leaves a pretty little thing like you sitting alone at the bar must be an idiot."

The flush on Castiel's cheeks deepens. “You know, usually I protest to being objectified.”

Dean brows raise at that, but he shrugs and nods. “Fair enough. Can’t work on everyone I guess. So what’s stoppin’ you now?”

Castiel doesn’t want to admit that maybe Dean is the one making all the difference, instead shooting a look back at Brady and saying, “I suppose I’m enjoying the attention.” He feels one corner of his mouth tilt up in what he hopes is an alluring smirk.

Dean’s smile widens. “I can work with that.” The drinks arrive then, two shot glasses filled with something light brown and topped with whipped cream. Dean pushes one towards Castiel and pulls the other closer to himself. When Castiel reaches for the glass to drink it, Dean stops him.

"No, no, no, Sweetheart, that's not how you drink a blowjob. Here, lemme show you."

He turns to face the shot glass on the bar and puts his hands behind his back, clasping them together. Leaning down, Dean fixes his lips around the rim of the glass, then tilts his head back, tipping the drink into his mouth. Once the drink itself is gone, Castiel can see Dean's tongue chasing the last bit of whipped cream, his tongue working along the inside of the glass.

Castiel isn't sure where to look: at Dean's throat, the muscles working as he swallows; at his mouth, lips wrapped tightly around the rim of the glass; at his tongue, as it licks at the bottom of the glass; or at his eyes, which are both mischievous and filled with heat as he never breaks eye contact with Castiel.

Dean pulls the glass out of his mouth, releasing it with a quiet _pop._ "Come on, now you try," he says as he places his empty glass back down on the bar.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Castiel tries to imitate Dean, but is not quite as smooth. Apparently he doesn't tighten his lips quite enough, and some of the drink dribbles out of the corner of his mouth, trailing down the side of his chin.

As soon as he sets the glass down on the bar, Dean murmurs, "Let me get that for you, Sweetheart," as he wipes at Castiel's chin with the pad of his thumb before sucking the digit into his own mouth. The surge of lust that rushes through Castiel's veins shouldn't surprise him in the least, but it still catches him off guard.

"How'd you even end up here with a guy like that, anyway?" Dean asks him, the corners of his mouth curving downwards into a slight frown.

"A coworker of mine set us up. I believe he is the man's nephew," Castiel replies, shrugging. "I promised my sister I would at least give him a chance."

Dean shakes his head. "I'm real sorry you had to come here with him. This place can be a lot of fun when you're with the right people. See, guys like that?" Dean says, pointing his thumb in Brady's direction; Brady, who is currently chugging beer as his friends cheer him on. "Dime a dozen. No, what you need," he continues, leaning forward into Castiel's space, "is someone who'll pay attention to you. Someone with a bit more," he pauses, tongue darting out to moisten his lower lip, "experience. An appreciation for the finer things, you might say. Not some frat boy wannabe."

Dean keeps leaning closer and Castiel knows, deep down, that he should head in the other direction; this guy is just trying to pick him up for a random hookup, Castiel _knows_ that. But he's captivated, can barely even look away from Dean, so he just swallows and keeps listening.

Suddenly Dean's hands are on him, adjusting his tie and flattening out his collar, and he barely even looks at Castiel when he says, "Don't you want that, Sweetheart?" He looks up at Castiel playfully, the corner of his mouth pulling up like he's making a real effort to keep a straight face.

Castiel can't even answer, so instead he just nods, eyes wide, and Dean pulls away, not even trying to his smirk.

Dean leans one elbow on the bar. "See, I can _give_ you what you want, but," and then he shoots Castiel an impish grin, raising one eyebrow, "you gotta come home with me." He tops it all off with a wink.

At first Castiel doesn't answer; normally if anyone else propositioned him this way, he’d tell him where to go and walk away. But with Dean, Castiel finds that he _wants_ to go home with him. It’s a strange feeling and he’s not entirely sure how to go about this.  

At Castiel’s lack of a response, Dean seems to take it upon himself to take it a step further. Castiel has been sitting, this whole time, with one hand on the bar and one hand on his own thigh. Dean rests his hand on top of Castiel's on his thigh. He then slides his hand down to Castiel's knee, curling his fingers around the back. "I guarantee you'll have more fun with me than you could ever have with that douchenozzle over there," he says, tilting his head toward Brady, who is currently stumbling his way drunkenly over to Castiel.

When he gets there, he's sweating rather grossly, reeking like beer, and he swings an arm around Castiel's shoulders, leaning on him heavily and actually pushing Castiel into the bar with the force of it. Dean turns away, seemingly put off by the way Brady is all over Castiel, and the way Castiel is allowing it.

"Listen, Cassie," Brady slurs drunkenly, breathing heavily near Castiel's face. Castiel grimaces and turns away. "Now, I heard from some friends of mine," he says on a sleazy laugh, "that you don't really put out on the first date. _But,_ I was kinda thinking, maybe," _hiccup,_ "maybe you could make an exception." The way he grins makes Castiel's skin crawl, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Dean's fists tightening on the bar.

"Y'know, Brady," Castiel tells the man, “I think…I think I will make an exception." Brady looks like he's about to start laughing, until Castiel puts his hands on Brady's chest and pushes him away. "Just, not for you."

Castiel tries not to laugh at the indignant look on Brady's face, he really does, but it's not easy. So he looks at Dean, says, "Dean?" and when Dean looks up at him, he continues, "I believe you promised to show me a good time."

The smile Dean gives him is brilliant as he stands, reaching out to take Castiel's hand, entwining their fingers and leading Castiel out of the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine that Castiel doesn't actually need to make an exception, because all he and Dean do is get burgers and go back to Dean's to watch old kung fu movies and make out before falling asleep on Dean's couch. But that's just me.
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://michaelandthegodsquad.tumblr.com/)!


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